


Gwathren -o i garav     (shadow of the wolf)

by Eleth_greenleaf



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Falling In Love, Lothlórien, Middle Earth, Minor Violence, Mirkwood, Post-War of the Ring, Post-war of the ring AU, Rivendell | Imladris, Slow Romance, mentions of Oropher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:36:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleth_greenleaf/pseuds/Eleth_greenleaf
Summary: Set after the war of the ring, a mysterious mark is appearing in the Wood Of Green Leaves. Whenever it appears, something terrible happens. Elwen and Legolas must save the Elves of mirkwood.(this is my first fic so it's not great)I've kind of given up on it now the story just isn't going anywhere. please. ignore it. this is embarrassing





	1. The mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will keep writing this fanfic, I am planning to make it quite long and I am already working on the next few chapters. Any feedback on my writing is welcome, as i am trying to improve my writing style.

  
_Panting, Elwen raised her blades, and blocked Amaron’s attack, the impact jarring her wrists and causing her to stagger backwards. She flicked her hunting knives upward and dove under her mentor’s defences, finishing with the points under Amaron’s throat. He looked at her in with an interested and surprised expression on his face. He ducked out from under her blades. “Interesting. You have greatly improved since the start of your training. I will see what I can do as to your ambition.” He looked at her in a cold, calculating sort of way. “But for now… more training. You are not there yet, hén nin.*”_  
  
_*My child_

* * *

  
“Captain. What are your orders?”  
  
“Track the orc pack to the borders of Mirkwood. If they leave peacefully, do not bother them. There is no need to risk any of the younger, less experienced hunters, as we cannot spare any properly trained soldiers. They have run into some trouble on the eastern border, and cannot make it back in time to assure the kings safety from the orcs.” She cast a pointed stare at the nervous, excitable elves standing chattering nearby.  “If they sense you, or if you somehow manage to get yourself into any other sort of trouble on our home territory, send for reinforcements. Do NOT try to kill them, as you are not yet capable of defeating such a large pack of orcs. Is that clear?”  
  
Elwen glowered at the younger elf, enjoying the look of fear on his face. She watched him scurry off. She had worked hard for the position she was in. She had been trained in battle her entire life. 2000 years. She had given up everything for her ambition. Her friends, her family, her childhood. She had grown up with only her cold, strict, unfriendly trainer for company, and watched the few people she knew gain friends, fall in love, get married. But he had no interest in a social life. Since the first time she saw the king’s guard in action, she had wanted to be a fighter. She had never been like the other she-elves, always talking about clothing and jewellery. She was strong, and equal to any male. And now she was a captain of the Elven guard of Thranduil's Woodland Realm.  Elwen had made it much further than most elves ever would. She had achieved her greatest ambition. And she was going to use her status to it’s full advantage.  
  
  
Elwen strode confidently towards the entrance to King Thranduil’s Halls.  
  
“Open the gate!”  
  
As she continued through the intricate maze of sculpted columns, statues and floating lights, her gaze fell upon a carving in a stone pillar that she had never noticed before. On the shaded side of the stone, it went unnoticed. She gazed at the carving, running her fingers along the deep grooves. It depicted a snarling wolf, with long sharp fangs that could have bitten a branch in half. The image seemed horrible and ominous, but something intriguingly beautiful hung about it.  
  
Elwen heard the footsteps of a servant coming echoing along the stairwell, and hurriedly withdrew her hand, heading on her way to the throne of the king. She would come back to inspect the carving later. There was something worrying about it that she did not quite understand.  
  
She approached the throne but stopped in her tracks, noting who was present. King Thranduil sat on his throne, his son Legolas by his side. Two guards were holding a wildly struggling mortal man by the arms, attempting to contain him.  
  
Thranduil looked up, finally noticing Elwen. “Ah, captain. Good timing. We were just about to send someone to find you.”  
  
“Aran nin*. I came to inform you that I have sent a patrol to make sure that orc pack leaves Greenwood. What did you require me for?”  
  
*my king  
  
Thranduil glared at Legolas, who glared right back at him. “I now have urgent business to attend to. Legolas, please explain to Elwen what we know of this situation. All of it. Guards! Throw him in the dungeons!” Thranduil stood, and stalked down the stairs.  
  
 Legolas slowly turned to face Elwen.  
  
“Elwen. We do not know much, but I shall do my very best to explain what we do know of this situation.”  
  
Elwen met Legolas’ bright blue gaze, and she saw that, behind the mask of calm that all elves so carefully maintained, he was more worried and concerned about something than he wished to let on.  
  
“This mortal man has been captured near the entrance to the forest. He will not state his purpose in being here.”  
Something in the prince’s eyes hardened. “We know nothing else, and this may not be a matter of any importance, but he was carrying this.”  
  
Legolas held out a slender hand. In his palm there lay a talisman made of a dark, almost black metal, attached to a rusted iron chain. An exact copy of the snarling wolf Elwen had found on the hidden side of a pillar, not fifty metres away. Elwen reached out and took the amulet, and ran her fingers across the surface, feeling the cold hard metal in her hand.

* * *

  
Legolas narrowed his eyes, assuming a stern expression. “This mark seems familiar to you. We believe that this is of great importance. Do you know anything about this object? Have you perhaps seen it before?” He watched Elwen’s face carefully, attempting to observe what she was thinking. And for a moment, an anxious look seemed to flash across her face before she composed herself. But he couldn’t be sure. He admired the fact that she hid her emotions so well, even better than most elves. He had spent a lot of time just focusing how to read her emotions, but he had come no closer to understanding this she-elf.

* * *

  
She ran her fingers along the metal, touching every edge and surface, her mind feeling like it was being drawn down into the dark, snarling wolf, the world around her descending into a haze, slipping from reality.  The room spun around her, and she found herself standing in a gloomy stone prison cell, next to with the man who had been found with the amulet. She stumbled and almost fell, disoriented.  
  
The man glanced up at Elwen, not seeming surprised by her sudden materialization. “Good. I was just expecting you.”  
  
 Elwen grabbed for her blades, the familiar feeling of their carved wooden handles reassuring her. “What-What am I doing here?” “You are not really here. This is a vision, of sorts. I wanted to warn you. The mark is a warning of a great danger that lurks in the corners of Greenwood. The last remnants of the shadow that lay on this wood, perhaps.”  
  
 “Who are you?”  
  
 The man sighed. “ I cannot say. Be careful. Watch out for the mark. Bad things will happen whenever it appears. Oh, and you are not what you think you are. You will find out soon, I suppose. The man grinned maliciously, and waved his hand as if dismissing her, but before she could protest she was back next to the king’s throne.  
  
Legolas frowned, looking rather concerned for her health. Which was probably fair, considering the fact that she had just had an hallucination.  
  
“Elwen. Are you alright?”  
  
She looked up into his eyes again. There was something going on. She had to know more. And she had to hurry. She had a gut sense that there was something wrong.  
  
 “We need to check on the prisoner. Now.” And she ran down the stairs.  
  
“Elwen, wait. Why? What happened?” Legolas made a split-second decision and raced after her.  
  
Elwen threw open the door to the dungeons and stormed past the surprised guards. “Legolas! In what cell is the prisoner?”  
  
 “Chamber 21,” the answer came from somewhere far behind.  
  
 She slowed down, and Legolas caught up with Elwen. “What are you doing?”  
  
“I am not completely sure. We will see, I think.”  
  
They arrived at the prisoner’s cell. Elwen slowly turned to look at Legolas, who had frozen with a horrified expression on his face.  
  
 “He _was_ in this cell?”  
  
“I had him put there myself.” Legolas crossed the remaining distance to the cell in two big strides. ”And look. The door is still locked. We must go report this to my father. Come.”  
  
Elwen followed Legolas as he purposefully strode back to the throne room, where Thranduil had taken his place on his throne. He strode right up to his father, ignoring the glare he received from the elvenking.  
  
“Father. May we speak with you?”  
  
 Thranduil let out a small sigh. “And what do you wish to speak to me about? If this is not urgent, it will have to wait. I have many things to attend to.”  
  
 “Legolas’ eyes flashed, almost causing Elwen to take a step back. The look in the prince’s eyes reminded her a little too much of Thranduil, on the rare occasions that he seemed to show some emotion. “You mean that you have a feast to prepare for this evening. This _is_ urgent, Father. The mortal man who we captured today- he has disappeared from his cell without a trace. His door was still locked.”  
  
Thranduil slowly rose from his throne, a faraway look in his eyes. “I was afraid something like this would happen. Come. We must alert the border patrols and the hunters. We must recapture him.”  
  
Elwen looked at Thranduil and Legolas, saw their twin expressions of deadly determination, and realised that she would have tell them about some things she had so far neglected to mention. The longer she waited to tell her king, the worse the fact that she had hidden it from them would seem when she _did_ to tell them. But there was something about the whole matter that made her apprehensive about telling anyone what had happened. It somehow felt dangerous and sort of _wrong_ to tell someone.  
  
“Aran nin. Prince Legolas. There remain a couple of things I have to tell you.” Thranduil and Legolas stopped on their way down the stairs and gave her their full attention. _{I wonder if this was a good idea. It’s too late to turn back now though.}_ The three pairs of blue eyes met, and again Elwen was struck by the similarity she could now see in their gaze, as if they were going to strike down anyone who opposed them with their eyes alone. These two elves were not to be trifled with. _{But nor am I. I must do this.}_  
  
She looked at Legolas first. “When you handed me the amulet, I had a kind of vision. I was in the prison cell, with the prisoner. He said that he wanted to warn me, and that the mark of the wolf is a warning of a great danger that lurks in the corners of Greenwood. He said that he thought that it might be to do with the last remnants of the shadow that lay on the forest. He said to be careful, and that terrible things would happen when the mark appeared. I think we ought to take him seriously.”  
  
Thranduil’s electrifying gaze was still focused on Elwen, but it softened a little, and did not seem angry. “This is very interesting information. We would do well to beware of this mark, at least until we know more. It cannot do any harm to be especially careful.”  
  
Legolas looked at his father, and then at Elwen. “If we can trust this man, why would he not tell us his name?”  
  
Legolas raised a fair point. “I do not know,” Elwen replied. “He said he could not say.”  
  
Legolas nodded slowly. “We must find out more. And did you not say that there were multiple things you wished to tell us?”  
  
“Yes,” Elwen said. Just before I learnt of the mortal’s capture, I noticed a carving in one of the pillars, very near to here. Come and I will show you.”  
  
Elwen led Thranduil and Legolas to the pillar where she had seen the carving of the wolf.  
  
 “The mark,” Thranduil breathed. “I did not doubt you, as you have been loyal to me and my people for many  hundreds of years, but now no-one can say that you did not speak the truth.”  
As he reached out to touch the engraving of the snarling wolf, all the lights in the room suddenly flickered and went out.  



	2. I erui gurth                        (the first death)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this chapter is a bit short, but I didn't have much time.

Elwen grabbed her knives, and heard the other two do the same, but in the few seconds it took the three elves to adjust to the darkness something hurtled through the air, pushing them away from the carving they had been inspecting. They heard a slashing, ripping, tearing from in front of them, and then the clicking of an animal’s claws on the stone floor, getting increasingly further behind them. Now able to see through the blackness, Elwen heard a faint gasp from Thranduil. In the place on the solid rock where the mark of the wolf had been there were deep slash marks, as though an animal with impossibly long sharp claws had shredded the stone. Footsteps echoed through the gloom, as guards hurried to check on their king and as servants rushed to re-light the torches.   
  
“Nin aran.” Elwen broke the stunned silence. “May I take my leave to ask my guards positioned at the castle gate wether they have seen anything?”   
  
Thranduil blinked and made an obvious effort to focus on what was going on. “Yes. Meet me in the throne room when you are done. Both of you. We must discuss this immediately.”   
  
Elwen started down the hallway, heading for the palace gates. She heard Legolas’ footsteps behind her, following. Their footsteps were the only sound in the dark hallway, which had still not been re-lit, and she held her knives in her hands. She had never been nervous or uncomfortable inside the palace before, as it was always kept completely secure and safe. But today, for the first time since the battle of the five armies, something had infiltrated the cave system- and even worse, it hadn’t been caught.   
  
When she reached the open gate Elwen took a step backwards out of shock. Her deputy guard, who had never before been defeated in battle, was lying on the floor, completely still. Bright scarlet blood was pooled on the stone bridge and splattered across the wooden gate. Elf blood. She ran for the elf, with Legolas right behind her.   
“Fandaer!” Elwen knelt next to the body of the guard, and had almost given up all hope and decided he was dead, when his chest suddenly heaved.  
  
 “Captain,” he gasped. “There is something you need to know- the creature that attacked us spoke. It said that you had to go to the dark fortress. Barad Dûr. If you did not go to defeat whatever dwells there, more deaths would follow.”  
  
 “No!” Elwen didn’t see how the Fandaer could still be alive. His body was almost ripped to shreds. “Legolas! Fetch a healer! Please!”   
  
Fandaer’s breathing slowed. “No… It is too late. I should have served you better. I am sorry.” Fandaer breathed out his last breath as Elwen slowly stood, her hands covered in the dead elf’s blood. She staggered, and would have fallen, if not for Legolas, who took her by the arm and steadied her.   
  
“Fandaer was brave.” Legolas looked her in the eyes. “And we must be as well, if we are to make it to the collapsed fortress of Sauron.”  
  
 “We?”  
  
 “I would not trust anyone other than you with this, and you did not think you could do this all by yourself? I am done letting my father dictate my life.” A bitter look came over his features. “I am coming with you, whether my father allows me to or not.”  
  


* * *

  
Legolas entered the room without knocking. He found it to be darkened, the only light coming from a candle sitting on a tabletop. Thranduil sat at the table, reading through a large stack of manuscripts that were so old they were almost falling apart. Legolas was thoroughly annoyed that his father was sitting here, taking his time to look through old papers while something was out there, killing his people.   
  
Thranduil looked up at the sound of the door, and looked like he was about to give him an irritated look and send him away, until he noticed that his son’s tunic was covered in blood. “Legolas! What has happened? Are you all right?” Thranduil rushed towards Legolas.   
  
Legolas pushed his father away. “It is not my blood. Fandaer has been killed. He was not yet dead when we found him, but there was no hope of his survival.”   
  
Thranduil looked up in shock. “By what?”  
  
 “We believe that it was the creature that destroyed the mark. Will you inspect his body?”   
  
Thranduil sighed. “Yes, yes. We must give him a proper burial.” But Thranduil sensed that his son hadn’t yet told him everything. Legolas looked tense and, to Thranduil’s surprise, slightly nervous. He looked at his son suspiciously. “Did- did he say anything before he died?”   
  
Legolas let out a slightly shuddering breath. “He told Elwen that the monster had said that she had to go to the collapsed fortress of Barad Dur.”  
  
 Thranduil stood for a moment, trying to process what his son had said. “But that is an extremely dangerous journey.”   
  
Legolas sighed. Here came the hard part. _{I hope he takes it well.}_ “Yes. And that is why I am going with her.”   
  
Instead of looking angry, or directly forbidding him from doing it, Thranduil looked down at the floor and stayed silent.  
  
 “Ada?”  
  
 “I knew you were going to say that.” Thranduil sighed forlornly. “I do not want you to leave. But I know you, nin dilthen las. And I know that you are, in more ways than you think, just like me. There is nothing I could do to stop you.” The father gazed at his son sadly. Legolas, for the first time in around a thousand years, did not know what to say.   
  
“Ada..”  
  
 “Nin dilthen las..*” Thranduil stepped forward and embraced his son, for once not caring about the blood soaking through onto his expensive robes. Legolas tensed, but then relaxed, blocking out the world and wishing he could stay in his father’s arms.   
  
“Im mel cin, Nin dilthen las…**”  
  
 _*My little leaf_  
 _**I love you, my little leaf…_  
  



	3. Leaving home again

  
Elwen stood in front of a small ornate mirror inside her chambers in the palace. She had to compose herself. But Fandaer… She had known the guard for all her life. He had always been there, as solid and reliable as the very forest. But she stopped herself before she could lose herself completely in her grief. She could not show weakness. She took a deep breath, pushed her thoughts of death and pain away, and stepped out into one of the many hallways of this huge palace.  
  
She headed to Thranduil’s throne, where, rather reliably, the king sat with his son beside him. But, more strangely, the king had a rather odd look on his usually expressionless face. It could almost be called sorrow.  
  
“King Thranduil…”  
  
Thranduil looked up. “Elwen. And dressed for traveling, I see,” he said somewhat bitterly.  
  
“Aran nin- has Legolas told you about-“  
  
“Yes, yes,” Thranduil impatiently interrupted. “I have been informed of everything. And I grant you leave to go on a quest.”  
  
Elwen hurried after Legolas, who was walking even faster than usual in the direction of the armoury and the stables.  
“Come on, Elwen. Hurry. We must prepare and leave immediately.”  
  
Elwen worried about Legolas. He was giving up a lot to come with her on this quest. Asking his father whether he could go couldn't have been a pleasant conversation.  
  
They reached the armoury, and Legolas turned and studied her weapons critically. “You will need more arrows. And perhaps you would like to pick out some new knives?” He gestured to the good section of the armory, which contained the better weapons that usually only those of royal blood would be able to take.  
  
Elwen nodded in thanks, and after a moment of careful thought chose a pair of white and silver hunting knives, very similar to Legolas’ own. She took her bow off her back and restrung it while Legolas filled two quivers with as many arrows as would fit. “Come on! We have to leave quickly, and we still need to go saddle our horses. We can’t go on foot.” Legolas gave her a faint smile before turning around and leading the way out of the armoury. It may not have meant much, but Elwen was very relieved to know that the elf she was to travel with wasn't angry with her.  
  
In the royal stables Legolas immediately headed to a horse standing in the corner of the building.  
  
“Arod.” Legolas smiled at the beautiful white stallion, caressing his forehead. “We meet again, my friend. It is good to see you.”  
Turning to Elwen, he added “Arod was my horse in the war of the ring. He will be happy to be taken outside again.”  
  
The horse nickered, and nuzzled Elwen’s arm. Legolas looked around the stables and lead Elwen to a white mare.  
  
 “Here. This is Arod’s sister, who we recently bought from the rohirrim for a rather unreasonable price. They seemed to know we wanted to buy her more than any other horse, as Arod was a bit lonely.” He smiled fondly back at his horse.  
  
 Elwen stroked the mare’s neck, admiring the strength in her legs and imagining the speed with which she would be able to ride. “Does she have a name?”  
  
“Fain,” came the answer.  
  
 Elwen ran her fingers through the horse’s soft grey mane. “Cloud.”

 

* * *

 

Legolas glanced at the golden haired she-elf riding beside him. Again he thought about how he admired the way she kept her feelings hidden. But, then again, he reasoned, she had no family there to leave behind. As they got further and further away from his father's halls, Legolas became less and less certain of himself. The last time he had left, he had signed up for a dangerous journey, expecting never to return to Mirkwood. This one was likely to be even worse. In the war of the ring he had never actually ventured into Mordor. Sauron might be gone, but it would still be infested with orcs and other, worse creatures. And to enter the actual fortress of the dark lord… Suicidal. It had never been done. Simply, nobody was stupid enough to even attempt it. Legolas was not afraid of his own death. He would not be killed be something as weak as an orc. He worried more about Elwen. He knew that she could handle herself as well as he could in battle, if not better, but still he would have preferred to go alone. But there had not been a choice. And Elwen wouldn't have let him go without her, just as he had not let her go alone.  
  
Elwen looked over at Legolas and caught his eye. “Where do we go first?”  
  
Legolas was startled out of his thoughts. He looked at Elwen and realised she was still staring at him. Had she asked him a question?  
  
“Where are we going first?” Elwin repeated her question. “You do realise I have never been out of the forest, apart from a quick visit to lake town?”  
  
 Legolas was stunned. He couldn't imagine staying in the forest all his life. And it wasn't like Elwen was young. She was probably a similar age to him. He grinned at her. “To Gondor. Aragorn will welcome us. I can’t wait to show you the white city- and the rest of middle earth.”  
  
Elwen’s eyes brightened at the idea. “I’ve always wanted to travel.”  
  
Legolas noticed a dreamy look in her eyes. The first deep emotion he had noticed in her. “Then why didn't you?” he asked. Elwen stared at him, and Legolas immediately realised that was a stupid question. This she-elf was confusing to be around- he was having trouble thinking properly. Also, she somehow managed to make him feel ignorant. He noticed Elwen trying to hold in her laughter, and realised he had blanked out again.  
  
“Sorry. I should have guessed- as captain of the royal guard, you can't have much time to travel.” Elwin looked down at her horse, smoothing out her mane. “Yes. Since my early childhood, I have spent all my time working. Working to become better at everything. Working to become a member of the royal guard, and then working to become the captain. It has always been my ambition.”  
  
 Legolas noticed her looking a bit confused with herself.  
  
“I have never told anyone this before.”  
  
Legolas smiled. She was opening up to him a bit. He hadn't looked forward to travelling with a stiff, silent companion.  
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t tell anyone else.”

 

* * *

  
Elwen was confused. She didn't know why she had told Legolas so much about her life. She barely knew him- and anyway, he was her prince. She served him and his father. But there was just something sincere and honest about him that made her trust him. And there was nothing she wanted more than to travel middle earth. And Gondor! She would see the white city. Legolas interrupted her thoughts.  
  
“And you ought to see Imladris. And the golden wood. We will go there,” he promised.  
  
Elwen smiled at the earnest expression in his face. “And I will look forward to it.”  
  
They rode in silence, each leaving the other to their own thoughts.  
  
Legolas broke the silence first. “Look. The boundary of the forest draws near.”  
  
Elwen looked to the end of the path, and far in the distance she saw a glow of golden light. Straining her eyes, she made out an open grassy expanse, with in the far distance a mountain range. She spurred on her horse, eager to see outside of the forest.  
Legolas followed at a slower pace, smiling. He was already looking forward to this journey just so he could get away from home for a while, but he would enjoy showing Elwen Middle Earth. But then he remembered what this journey would be like, and his smile faded. This could be the most dangerous thing he had ever done.  
  
He realised he was falling behind, and urged Arod to walk faster. In another ten minutes of riding at a slow trot they came to the boundary of the forest. They rode on to the crest of a hill a few meters away as two elves halted their horses side by side, and Elwen almost forgot to breathe. She took in the wide expanse of grass, and the mighty, snow capped mountains in the distance. How big was this world? Elwen suddenly understood Legolas’ earlier question about why she had never left the shadows of the forest. How could she not have seen this before? She was suddenly taken by an immensely strong curiosity- what lay beyond these mountains? What was there to be found in the valleys in between? And what would she be able to see from the top of a mountain?

 

* * *

 

  
Elwen smiled at Legolas, and although it was a small smile, he could see in her eyes how happy she was. He smiled back at her, and turned back to his horse. “Come. We will ride fast to Gondor.” He heard a sharp intake of breath from beside him.  
  
 “How far is Gondor?”  
  
Legolas understood how she was feeling. He remembered the day he had first left the mighty expanse of trees that made up his home. He simply hadn’t been able to believe the size of the world. Elves were able to see incredibly far, but he couldn’t see as far as he wanted to. Nowhere near it.  
  
“Quite far. We have to ride fast, or the journey will take at least a week. Come on!” He spurred his horse on, hearing Elwen do the same, and galloped over the crest of the hill down into the wide, shallow valley.

 

* * *

  
Thranduil sat at his desk in a darkened room, lit only by a small candle. He had never regretted any decision so much. What had possessed him to let his son leave? Again? For who knew how long? _If they even came back._ How could he have let him go?


	4. Imladris

“Elwen.”  
  
After about an hour of silently taking in the landscape Elwen heard Legolas’ voice beside her.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Legolas pointed at the sky, which was taking on colours that she had never been able to see in the forest.  
“The sun is setting. We should stop and let our horses rest.”  
  
The two elves dismounted and let their horses graze. They sat down on the lush green grass under a willow next to a trickling clear stream. Legolas pulled out an old parchment map.  
  
“I know middle earth very well, so I brought this mainly for your benefit.” He folded it out on the grass. “I have been thinking, and I have decided on a route we could potentially take.” He traced a line with his finger. “Look- we could pass through the mountains here, and stop in Rivendell.” He smiled at Elwen. “As we are planning to go there some time anyway, I see no reason why not to go there now, and allow our horses a few days of rest. Then we could travel back through the mountains, and pass through the Dimrill dale, heading for the golden wood. Lady Galadriel would welcome us, I am sure.”  
  
“And then?”  
  
 Legolas traced another line on the map. “We would travel through Rohan, and if need be, we could stop at Edoras. Then we would aim to reach Minas Tirith, and then finally make for Mordor and Barad Dur.”  
  
 A silence hung in the air, as they were both reminded that this was no holiday. Elwen spoke first, not wanting to let the heavy atmosphere get to them.  
  
“I see nothing wrong with this plan.”  
  
She looked at Legolas, relieved when a faint smile touched his lips. Elwen wanted to make the most of this “adventure,” and she definitely did not want to think of it as a march to their doom.  
  
 “Sleep.” Elwen looked back at Legolas, and saw him still watching her. “I will guard.”  
  
“No, my lord. Let me guard. Surely you must be tired.”  
  
 The smile faded of Legolas’ face. “Elwen. I know I am the king’s son, but I do not want to be treated as such outside the forest. Please. On this journey, we are equal.”  
  
Elwen had not realised, but she had slipped back into the habit of treating him as her prince. She could understand how he felt. Even though it was what she had always wanted, being the Captain of the Royal Guard was an exhausting task. Everyone always looked to her for important decisions- decisions that could mean life or death. And in her many years of life, there had been many wrong ones. Decisions that had meant an elf’s death. Sometimes the elves immortality was more of a curse than a blessing. Because all memories, good and bad, would be carried with them for thousands of years.  
  
“Yes, Legolas. I understand.” As she lay down to sleep, she saw him smile at her use of his name.

* * *

  
Thranduil sighed and stood up from his desk. He was not doing his son any good sitting here. But what could he do? He would at least do something- he had to, and it wasn’t like he would be able to come up with any ideas to help sitting here. Finally having a sense of purpose, he strode out of the room, his long robes swirling behind him in the rush of cool, refreshing air caused be the slamming of the door. He had not realised the air in the darkened chamber was so hot and stifling.  


* * *

 

Legolas glanced at the sleeping she-elf beside him, the moonlight turning her hair to silver. Her golden hair was unusual for a Silvan elf- usually only the Sindarin, like him and his father, had that colour hair.  His gaze fell upon her new hunting knives, glinting in the faint light the stars gave off. He had been more pleased than he liked to admit with her choice of weapons, the same as his but with silver instead of gold. He drew his bow, the same one he had been given by Lady Galadriel, and held it in his hand, the wood and leather grip worn and familiar in his palm. He smiled at the memories from the journey that had taken place years ago. It had been the first time he had been in the company of people who treated him like an actual person, not as their prince or lord, and not as their son, but as an equal. He loved his father, but often he felt as if he was being used-as a tool, a mascot, an object to keep the king’s people happy. His father had started treating him better since he returned from the war of the ring, but still he did not often enough feel like his father actually cared about him. Thranduil cared about his realm and his people, but did he care about his subjects and about his own son as people, or simply as associates, to be used? Legolas looked up at the sky, and found the star Eärendil shining brightly among the others. There remained hope.

* * *

 

Elwen woke to the sound of the stream running beside her. Immediately alert, she sprang to her feet, seeing Legolas was gone from his spot leaning against the old willow tree. Her knives flashed into her hands in an instant, but then she noticed him saddling the horses a little distance away. She put her blades back into their sheaves on either side of her quiver, glad that Legolas hadn’t noticed her moment of panic. The events at the palace had made her nervous and jumpy. She walked over to where Legolas stood.  
  
“Good morning.”  
  
Elwen looked Legolas in the face and met his bright blue eyes. He smiled, but there was something almost tired and careworn about the way he held himself, as if he hadn’t slept in a long time. She narrowed her eyes. That shouldn’t be possible for an elf.  
  
“You look- tired. Have you slept at all lately?”  
  
 Legolas turned away from her to check Arod’s girth, although Elwen was sure that she had already seen him do that. “Legolas?” He turned back to her with a sigh so soft she barely picked it up, even with her elvish hearing. “No. I have not been sleeping very well. I think you know why.” Elwen nervously turned to her own horse. He seemed to be in a rather irritable mood, and argue with him was the last thing she wanted to do. “Yes, Legolas. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”  
  
They mounted their horses in silence, but to Elwen’s relief when she glanced at Legolas and saw a small smile of forgiveness and acceptance on his face. But he was right. It wasn’t her business if he was or wasn’t sleeping- and she could understand why. He was giving so much just to be here, and he was taking it upon himself to plan most of their journey without help. The route they would take was not one of those few decisions that could be taken lightly. Sauron might have fallen when the great ring was destroyed, but there was still shadows, darkness and danger throughout middle earth. And it would always be so. Elwen was not afraid of any orc, and she knew Legolas felt the same, but orcs weren’t the only danger out there. They might be a highly formidable pair, but they couldn’t foresee everything that they would come across. No-one could. They would have to take great care.  
  
The canyon opened up before them into a sunlit valley. The smell of summer had stayed on in this isolated corner of the world, while the rest turned to winter. The sound  of rushing water and beautiful music filled the air. A complex of delicately made buildings filled the bottom of the gorge. The two elves stopped their horses for a moment, allowing Elwen the time to take in the calm, peaceful beauty of the place. Rivendell.  
  
“Imladris,” Legolas murmured. “I was never certain I would ever return to this fair place again.”  
  
 The two elves started their horses and they rode at a fast trot over a thin stone bridge and through a gate to a courtyard where a brown haired elf wearing a silver circlet and long elegant robes stood waiting for them.  Legolas and Elwen gracefully swung down out of the saddle. The elf standing there patiently waited until they had dismounted and spoke to them in a clear voice.  
  
“Welcome to Imladris. I am Lindir. Lord Elrond’s scouts saw you coming down the path and sent me to welcome you. Elrond wishes to speak with all who travel through this valley. Follow, I will take you to him.”  
  
Lindir lead them to an open-air pavilion with a large, ornately carved throne-like chair on which another brown-haired elf rested. When they entered he stood and descended down the steps to greet them.  
  
“Ah. Thank you, Lindir.” Lindir walked back out through the doorway. “Welcome to Imladris.” The elf looked at Elwen. He had surprisingly warm brown eyes that didn’t match his rather stern expression. “I am Elrond.”

* * *

  
Elrond surveyed Legolas. “And you have been here before. Are you not Legolas, who travelled with the Fellowship Of The Ring, son of Thranduil?”  
  
Legolas almost sighed rather loudly, but he managed to stop himself. Was there nowhere where he could escape from his father’s shadow?  “Yes, my lord.”  
  
 Elrond looked at him rather suspiciously, as if he knew there was something strange going on. “And for what reason have you come here now?”  
  
Legolas looked at Elwen. They had not prepared for this. Elwen gave Legolas a nod so small it was almost unnoticeable. It was decided. They would trust Elrond, and tell him their tale.

 

* * *

 

“I see.” Elrond strode through the now darkening chamber. “So you have merely come here to rest on your way. And you are very welcome. This quest you have taken upon yourselves is dangerous, maybe equally dangerous as the journey you undertook with the fellowship.” He nodded at Legolas. “And rest you shall. I will bring you to the guest rooms so you may sleep undisturbed. And when do you think you will leave?”  
  
 Legolas and Elwen looked at one another and silently came to an agreement. “Sunrise, the day after tomorrow. We cannot stop for long. It is mainly for the benefit of our horses that we headed this way at all.”  
  
Elrond nodded slowly. “I understand. Come, I will escort you to your rooms.”

* * *

  
  
Legolas’ room was as comfortable as he could wish for, and the calm, sleepy atmosphere of the place was getting to him. And that was precisely why he did not feel comfortable. He would have as much difficulty in falling asleep properly here as anywhere else. He lay on top of the bed, still fully dressed and with his weapons on the blanket beside him, restless, not wanting to sleep. He sighed forlornly and stood up again. He wandered over to the window and looked out over the beautiful valley. But instead of feeling soothed and at home here, as he had done the last time he was here, he felt agitated and unsettled. A panicky, overwhelmed feeling come over him, and he wondered why they had come here. He felt almost as if the calming music and flowing water were tricking him, causing him to feel relaxed and at peace, while in reality he and Elwen were on a very dangerous quest. Were they wasting time in coming here? But then the clouds overhead cleared, showing the night sky, and he felt less trapped. Again he sought out Eärendil, and picked it out among the thousands of other shimmering points of light against the dark, endless night sky. He sought comfort in the fact that elsewhere, these same stars would be shining on his home. He felt connected to the whole of middle earth. And somewhere, his father might be looking up at the star Eärendil. And finally, he was at peace. He felt the calm of Rivendell wash over him like the ever-flowing waterfalls that gushed over the cliffs, and this time he didn’t try to fight it.


End file.
